Archive | September, 2013

well that was a humbling experience

30 Sep

A facebook friend posted a link to a list challenge titled “100 Places To Visit Before You Die” stating that he had been to 38 of the 100 places. People started commenting below with their numbers. 34, 23, 51! etc. “How exciting!” I thought as I dutifully clicked the link to take the test to find out what my number is. After scrolling through 100 places and checking off the places I had been to, I finally got my magic number. Now I wasn’t expecting my number to be huge. I’m fairly young and had kids early on so traveling hasn’t really been something that I’ve been able to enjoy in recent years, but before Ryan and I got married, we were fortunate enough to visit a few places, including Jamaica, Mexico, Hawaii, Florida, a few unnamed islands – not bad for a couple of 20-something year olds! So imagine my surprise when Continue reading

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how to get a toddler to speak spanish

18 Sep

Bedtime. Such a lovely time. The older I get, the more I appreciate bedtime. Bedtime with two toddlers….not so much.

I’m not sure what it is about bedtime that turns kids into Godzilla, but if I could invent a magic pill that would make kids want to go to bed, I would have parents lined up around the block. Bedtime is never a fun time for parents. At our house, we do everything you are supposed to do: we give warnings, we stick to a routine, we give individual attention, we make sure they are fed, we have calm time before bed, we don’t “force” them, we don’t make them cry-it-out, we make it as pleasant as possible. Despite that, the kids can usually find one thing or another to postpone the moment when we turn out the lights and close the door. Continue reading

never trust a 4 year old

12 Sep

I open the school door and immediately hear a child screaming. I know that scream. It is the scream of an angry, tantrum throwing 4 year old. It is the scream of my son.

“No, that can’t be him,” I tell myself. “He’s in the gym. On the other side of the school. He can’t be yelling so loud that I can hear him at the front door….right? Please?” But part of me knows. Knows that it is my son. And he is giving some teacher hell right now. And I dread going in that gym to pick him up because all the other moms will see me. And they will know that I am the bad mom of the toddler who throws tantrums. And I consider running back to the car. But I don’t. Instead I do the awkward walk fast – almost run – slow down – walk fast – almost run – slow down routine until I finally get to the gym and see my little angel screaming at the teacher. Continue reading